First Meeting
by 17seconds
Summary: This is my version of Legolas and Aragorn's first meeting. Aragon is arrested by King Thranduil, and locked in his dungeons. If he wants to avoid execution, he'll have to find a way to escape.
1. Chapter 1

First Meeting

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

Chapter 1: The village

Author's note: This story is unrelated to my other stories.

* * *

The village was a small one, about a mile away from the outskirts of Esgaroth. The town's population consisted of a meager assortment of farmers and herders who lived outside the busy city in order to tend to their crops and their livestock. Aragorn would have passed right through the inconsequential town on his way to Esgaroth had he not heard the screaming.

At this early afternoon hour the village was almost deserted. The men and any boys strong enough to work had all left town to tend to their crops. The only ones left at home were the farmers' wives and young children. Hearing the cries for help, Aragon turned his horse in the direction of the sound and urged him to a gallop. By the time he reached the cause the disruption, he could see four men running towards the edge of the forest, confident that no man would follow them there.

The forest was called Mirkwood. Aragorn had heard many stories of it, both from the elves of Rivendell and from the many human towns he had visited in the past few years. The men who spoke of Mirkwood painted it as evil. They spoke of a cruel Elvenking, of wild and vicious elves who prey on men, and a place full of dark magic and enchantments. In Rivendell, Aragorn heard other stories. Stories of a king who was headstrong but not cruel. Stories of elves who fought bravely against the shadow surrounding their home, at great cost to themselves. "More dangerous, less wise," they called them. The Noldor considered them primitive. Too occupied with war to have any real knowledge in the art, literature, and logic that the Noldor were known for. Still, they were elves, and were not the evil beings that many men pictured them as.

Aragorn was about to pursue the men into the forest when he saw the woman. She was laying in the doorway of one of the small houses, crying and calling out for help. Aragorn dismounted and rushed towards her.

"Madame, are you alright?" Aragorn asked as he approached.

She had obviously been involved in a scuffle. Her shabby dress was torn in one spot, her hair had escaped from the handkerchief that had been holding it in place, and there was a bruise forming on one of her cheeks.

"Those men," she choked out through her tears, pointing in the direction in which the men had disappeared. "They're robbing us."

She was not badly hurt. He had seen in the distance that the men all had swords, but they didn't appear to have used them. They did not need to. The women was clearly too frightened to have put up a fight or pursue them after they ran. He reached out a hand to help her stand and led her into the house. It was in total disarray. He assumed that the room he was in now was a combination of a sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. Chairs were knocked over, cupboard doors were wide open, and miscellaneous items were strewn all over the floor.

Aragorn heard a noise and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. A moment later a small head peaked threw the doorway leading to the rest of the house.

"Mama?" a young girl asked fearfully. The woman seemed to have recovered somewhat from her ordeal. She rushed forward to embrace the child.

"Shh. It's alright Kinnie. Mama's here." She reassured her.

Soon more small heads appeared in the room. There were five altogether. The youngest could be no more than ten. They all appeared scared, but unhurt. Aragorn watched as the woman sought to comfort them.

"What happened?" He asked with concern.

"It was the outlaws," she explained, "Master Girion sent them out of Esgaroth a month ago for their crimes. They been dwelling just inside the edge of the haunted forest since then. This is the third time they've come to the village to loot our homes."

"The third time?" He asked perplexed. "Hasn't anyone been sent to arrest them for their crimes?"

She stared at him, confused.

"They've been staying inside the forest." She repeated. "How the elves haven't gotten to them yet, I don't know, but no one else is going to risk going in that horrid place."

Aragorn sighed. He had lived among both elves and men, and the prejudice of both races always surprised and annoyed him. He was certain that the elves of Mirkwood weren't as horrible as these villagers seemed to think. After all, these weren't allies of Sauron that they were talking about. He had no doubts that the villagers fear of the forest was unwarranted. Their fear was most likely the result of scary stories told to children generations ago to scare them into behaving.

"I will go." He promised the woman. His conscious would not allow him to leave the villagers to the mercy of those outlaws. "I will make sure that those men don't bother your village again."

* * *

Please review to let me know what you think.


	2. Spiders

First Meeting

Chapter 2:Spiders

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

* * *

Aragorn paused briefly to bend down again and examine the path. The firm ground normally would have made it difficult to see footprints, but the four men he was following seemed to be making little effort to hide their tracks. They were either too arrogant or too inexperienced to disguise the evidence of their trail.

Aragorn had been following the outlaws through the forest for over an hour now. The forest was just as dark and gloomy as the rumours said, and he was eager to leave it. The criminals had gotten a good head start, but now he could hear the sound of their voices not far ahead and knew he was drawing close to them. Having been raised by elves and trained by rangers, Aragorn was skilled in moving silently. He did so now, quieting his steps and his breathing so that they were no louder than the sound of leaves rusting overhead.

Aragorn realised now did not know what his plan was once he caught the outlaws. All of the forest was under the rule of the Elvenking. Therefore, the Elvenking should be the one to judge the men. If he had been in Rivendell, he would have asked Lord Elrond to send elves to help him arrest the criminals for trespassing. However, as the Mirkwood elves had not yet arrested the men after they have lived in their forest for over a month, he assumed that they deemed the outlaws too far away from their homes to bother with. His next choice would be to take them back to the village that they had attacked to atone for their crimes, but that was easier said then done. The woman had made it clear that the villagers were too superstitious to set foot in the forest, and he could not escort the four men back there all by himself.

He was certain that he could defeat the men even though he was outnumbered. The fact that they had attacked a helpless woman to steal food made them cowards in Aragorn's mind. He doubted that any of them even knew how to fight. Also, they were unaware that they were being followed, giving him the element of surprise. Although he could most likely kill them with little effort, he did not wish to. He would prefer to subdue them and turn them over to the authorities. However, it seemed that he may not have a choice.

His thoughts were interrupted when the sound men's voices ahead of him turned into shouts. Without thinking, he sprinted forward. Peering through the trees he could see what had alarmed the men. They were surrounded by giant, black spiders.

When Elladan and Elrohir had first told him about giant spiders he had accused them of lying. The twins loved to pull pranks on all the inhabitants of Rivendell, and especially on the young, adopted human. The twins insisted that it was true, and eventually he had asked his tutor, Erestor, about it. Erestor had confirmed the twins' story, but calmed the young child's fears by telling him the spiders were far away and couldn't hurt him. Now, seeing the beasts in front of him for the first time, Aragorn's childish fear came back to him.

A sound of clicking noises came from behind him. He whirled around. Belatedly, he drew his sword. The first spider that came towards him was swiftly dispatched. Before he had time to feel any relief or happiness at his kill, two more spiders appeared. So it continued, that for every one he managed to kill, more came to take its place. The spiders were countless. There were hundreds of them, surrounding Aragorn and the other men like something out of a nightmare. As he had predicted, the other men were not fighters. Already, some of the spiders were wrapping two of them up in their webs. Aragorn felt despair begin to set in. As his sword cleaved through the body of another spider something heavy fell on him, knocking him to the ground. Looking over his shoulder he saw yet another of the black, hairy creatures. Before, he could maneuverer his sword in a position to kill it, the creature raised its head to sink its fangs into his neck. He gasped at the pain, which felt like someone sticking a red-hot knife in him.

Suddenly, he felt tired. All he wanted was to sleep. He fought to keep his eyes open, and was rewarded with the sight of an arrow with yellow fletchings burying itself into the spider's body.

'That's strange.' He thought as the world grew dim.

'None of the men had bows with them.'

He could resist the darkness no longer. His head fell to the ground and his body went limp.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please review and tell me what you think.


	3. Guilt By Association

First Meeting

Chapter 3: Guilt By Association

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

* * *

The first thing he became aware of was the voices. At first he could not understand them at all. After a while, he realised they were speaking in Sindarin, but not the same kind that he had learned. The voices spoke with such a strong accent and used many words he did not recognise, so that he was only able to discern every other word or so. The other thing he became aware as he was waking, was the vile taste in his mouth that reminded him of the potions that Lord Elrond would force down his throat when he was ill. Yet none of the voices belonged to Lord Elrond. With that thought he realised one more thing-his hands were bound behind his back.

"This one is waking as well." It took Aragorn a moment to try to figure out what the elf was saying. "We will take them to the king now."

Aragorn pried open his eyes. His head felt heavy, and his temple started throbbing as he tried to remember what had happened and what he was doing here.

He was lying in a cell, yet he could think of no reason for being there. He had been in the forest, he remembered, and then the spiders had attacked. He did not see why he was now in a prison.

The door to his cell opened, and in walked two elves. He knew them to be Mirkwood elves by their green and brown clothing. They walked over to him and, without a word, dragged him to his feet. Aragorn couldn't help but let out a small gasp at the unexpected pain.

"What...?" That was all that he managed to get out. He was confused by his current status as prisoner and was unsure what to make of it. Growing up, Aragorn had always known these elves to be allies. Yes, the Mirkwood elves were thought rather ignorant and undisciplined by the Noldor, but they were still respected as worthy allies who helped to keep the growing evil at bay.

Aragorn heard another voice, this one speaking in the common tongue. Its words were provocative and challenging, yet spoken with a quiver of fear. Then he understood and was relieved. It was a simple misunderstanding. The elves had found him with the outlaws and had assumed that he was one of them. He would just explain this mistake to the Elvenking, and then he would be freed.

He grimaced. The elves had begun marching him out of the prison and each step sent a wave of pain through his body. The spider bite on his neck ached terribly, despite the fact that someone had bandaged and tended the wound.

After what seemed like an endless journey, the Aragorn and the outlaws were brought into the Great Hall. The guards with them walked them down the length of the hall until they were directly in front of the stone dais on which the Elvenking's throne sat. Then, they forced the men unto their knees before the king. Aragorn looked up. He knew such an act may be considered arrogant, but he took the chance to examine the king's Elvenking had pale blond hair and green eyes that showed the wisdom of many years. Beside his throne stood two elves, advisors most likely. The Elvenking's face was impassive as he glanced over the men, but when his cool eyes fell on the ranger, he paused to glare at the man's defiantly raised head. At that Aragorn dropped his head, not out of fear, but out of respect.

"You are guilty of trespassing in my forest. Do you have anything to say to defend your actions?" The Elvenking spoke in the common tongue. His words were clear and impassive. His tone was deceptively soft.

Aragorn opened his mouth to explain his innocence, but was cut off by the four other men.

"We weren't doing nothin wrong." One of them exclaimed indignantly.

"I'm innocent."

"We were chased into the forest by those darned spiders." Another shouted over him.

"I'm a citizen of Esgaroth. You can't keep me here."

The men's voices were all rude and proud. None of them showed the least bit of respect for the great king sitting before them.

A thought occurred to Aragorn then. Exclamations of his innocence were less convincing while standing next to four guilty men who were all making the same claim.

"You are lying." King Thranduil said, his voice silky smooth. "You are outlaws. My warriors have told me that, while treating your wounds, they saw the brands you bear on your shoulders as testaments of your crimes. You have already been banished for committing one crime. The punishment for committing another crime by trespassing in my realm is death."

"My Lord!" Aragorn exclaimed. Now, for the first time, he felt a flash of fear. "I am no outlaw. I do not have a brand upon my shoulder. I am innocent."

His protest may have done him some good, if the king had been able to hear it over the sound of four other protests. However, the king had heard enough of their lies.

"Enough." He said, raising his voice slightly for the first time. Then he turned to address the guards. "The men are to be executed for their crimes tomorrow at dawn. Dismissed."

Along with the other men, Aragorn continued to proclaim his innocence as he was led from the hall.

* * *

Legolas frowned as the men were led away. He had watched the whole interaction from his place beside the king's throne. He harboured no illusions that the men were innocent, but that did not make it easier to see them condemned to death.

His father was a good king. If his judgement was sometimes harsh, it was only because the growing darkness made such harshness necessary.

His father did not usually deal with trespassers so cruelly. Normally, he would simply lock the men in a cell for a day or two before turning them over to the Master of Esgaroth. With outlaws however, it was different. The Master refused to take the men as they had already been exiled for past crimes. The king knew from past experience that letting the outlaws go only allowed them to cause more trouble. Therefore, the only options for the king were to lock the men up permanently or execute them. To an elf, a quick death was far more merciful than a slow, agonising one caused by lack of freedom. That was why the king had chosen to execute them.

Legolas knew this, and so he accepted the king's judgement. In fact, he rarely questioned his father's decisions, not because he was afraid to but because he usually agreed with them.

Eventually, after several more issues had been brought to the king's attention, court ended and Legolas was dismissed. He immediately went to his chambers to change into his warrior uniform. In order to allow all the warriors to spend time with their families, the soldiers' positions changed every three months. Currently, Legolas was stationed as a officer of the Home Guard.

After he finished dressing, he grabbed his weapons and left his chambers. Tonight, he was assigned to guard the men in the dungeons while they awaited their executions at dawn.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please review!


	4. Taken Hostage

First Meeting

Chapter 4: Taken Hostage

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

* * *

"I'm innocent!" Aragorn was beyond frustrated. The Elvenking had said that he would be executed at dawn and his time was running out. "I told you I don't have a brand on my shoulder. You can check for yourselves. I was tracking the outlaws through the forest. I'm not one of them."

He had been trying to convince the guards of his innocence since they had left the Great Hall, yet none of his protests made any difference. The warriors continued to ignore him along with the other men. It was hopeless. The soldier's king had condemned them to die and the elves trusted the king's judgment. Nothing Aragorn said would convince them to do otherwise.

Aragorn was not sure how much time had passed, but eventually the door leading to the prison that contained the men's cells opened. Aragorn tensed expecting that his time had come. Two guards entered the prison and, to Aragorn relief, they did not open the cells to take the prisoners to their execution. Instead, they went over to the two elven warriors that had been guarding the men. One of those guards handed the keys to the cells to the first of the newly entered warriors, a guard with golden blond hair. The soldiers who that had been ignoring Aragorn for the last several hours left the prison.

'Replacements,' Aragorn thought.

At first he was hopeful. Perhaps these elves would be more willing to listen to him. As he thought about though, he realised that this was his last chance. Was he willing to risk his life on the chance that one of the guards was inclined to believe him?

'No,' He thought. 'I can't risk it. I have to find another way out of this.'

He quietly slid to the floor and lay unmoving. Over the sounds of the other men, he doubted the elves heard his movement. They have had their backs to him since they entered. There was no way they could have seen him sitting up a moment ago. He strained his ears to catch the sound of the elves' soft footsteps as they made their rounds through the prison, checking on each of the prisoners.

"Is this one sleeping?" He heard one of the elves ask in Sindarin. The voice was coming from right outside his cell. He sounded surprised. That was understandable. What man would be able to sleep after being told he had only hours to live? He heard the elf sigh.

"Go send for the healer." He ordered the other guard.

"Yes, Sir"

Aragorn held his breath as the door to his cell slid open. This was his chance. The elf approached him and he felt gentle hands on his throat, checking for breathing. The elf was leaning over him now and Aragorn seized the opportunity. His fist collided with the elf's jaw. The elf was momentarily stunned, allowing Aragorn to grab the hilts of the twin blades strapped to the guard's back and pull the daggers free. By now the guard had recovered from his blow and called for help. Bereft of his knives he grabbed one of his arrows. Aragorn saw what the elf was doing and managed to move so that the arrow, intended for his throat, instead sank into his shoulder. He cried out in pain and before the elf could try again, he grabbed hold of him and placed the guard's own blade at his throat. The elf stilled, aware of his precarious position. Aragorn, careful to keep the knife on the guard's neck, slipped the straps of the elf's quiver over his shoulders and repositioned it onto his own back.

Aragorn paused for a moment to regain his breath. He was struggling with the pain in his shoulder and the self-condemnation he was feeling. He held no ill will towards elves. Growing up in Rivendell he had learn to respect the Firstborn. The thought of using one of them as a hostage now made him sick, but he had told himself there was no other choice if he wanted to live. Besides, he told himself he was not actually going to harm the elf. However, he was beginning to feel ashamed of his underhanded tactics. He had not expected the guard to be so young. Not that it was easy to tell an elf's age, but in Rivendell he had learned that you could tell an elf's age by his eyes. During the fight, he had seen clearly this elf's youth and inexperience. He couldn't be more than a few hundred years old, barely more than a child to elves.

Aragorn's remorse was cut short by the sound of more elves entering the prison.

"Don't move," He ordered, "Or I'll slit his throat."

The elves paused uncertainly. Aragorn was desperate. He had deliberately let that show in his voice. He had hoped that the elves would hesitant to attack a man who sounded desperate enough to kill his hostage even if it meant his own death. It seemed that he had been correct. The elves did not advance further. Aragorn walked out of the cell that the guard had left open.

"Get in the cell." He ordered and they did. He was fortunate that they all fit. Apparently, the elves had not expected the man to be able to overtake one of their own. Only a handful of soldiers had answered the guard's call for help. He grabbed the keyring off of his hostage's belt. After the third try, he managed to find the right key and locked the elves in the cell. He now heard the other men crying out to him. Pleading him to free them as well. He ignored them. Unlike him, they were guilty and deserved their punishment. He had fulfilled the village woman's wish and ensured that the men would not bother her again. He only hoped that his good deed would not cost him his life.

He exited the cell and proceeded through the stronghold, dragging his hostage with him. Suddenly, he remember that he had been unconscious when he was brought brought here.

"Which way to get out of here?" He demanded, giving the elf a shake when he did not immediately reply.

"Straight." The elf's voice was filled with disdain and hatred.

In that manner, Aragorn began to make his way through the palace, following the elf's directions.

"Legolas!"

Aragorn whipped around. A servant had just emerged from one of the rooms they had just passed. Before Aragorn could order him to stay put, the elf had already sprinted off in the opposite direction.

'Going for more guards, most likely.' Aragorn thought to himself and sped up a little.

'Legolas,' he thought. So that was the elf's name. He fought down another wave of shame. Somehow knowing the elf's name made Aragorn's actions seem worse. Now his hostage wasn't just a hostage. Now he had a name.

Eventually, the elf led him out of the stronghold and into a courtyard. Blocking their way to the Great Doors that led out to the forest was a host of elven warriors and King Thranduil himself. Aragorn tried not to let his fear and uncertainty show on his face. His first thought was to once again try to proclaim his innocence, but he discarded that thought immediately. He had attacked an elven warrior for doing no more than following orders. He could not longer claim to be innocent. Besides, the king would not believe him if he did.

"King Thranduil," he said, clutching Legolas closer to him and holding the knife closer to his skin. "Allow me to go free or this elf dies."

The Elvenking glared at him with utmost fury in his eyes. Then, he glanced at Legolas and Aragorn thought something was shared between them, although he did not know what. Finally, the king nodded to his soldiers to open the gate. Aragorn held in a sigh of relief. He would live a little longer anyway.

"Send for my weapons and pack." He demanded. The Elvenking nodded towards another elf who hurried off to obey. "You will grant me safe passage to Esgaroth. I will take this elf with me as insurance. Once I reach the forest's edge it will let him go, unharmed."

He hoped that, once he got close enough to Esgaroth, the elves would hesitate to attack him in a mannish town. How he would get to Esgaroth alive, he did not know yet.

"Very well."

Thranduil's words were cold and deadly.

The elf returned with his things and he strapped on his sword and hoisted up his pack. Then he nudged Legolas forward and began his trek through the forest.

* * *

'Stupid,' Legolas thought to himself. 'How could I be so stupid.'

He knew better than to have put himself a dangerous position by entering the man's cell alone. The truth was, he had never expected a man to be able to overpower him. This man, however, had moved with speed and skill that was uncommon in his race.

Legolas knew from his studies that men's health was very fragile. That was why, when he saw the man lying unmoving in his cell, he had assumed that the spider bite had affected him worse than it would an elf. True, the man was to be executed in a few hours anyway, but while he was guarding the men, they were in his care. It was his duty to see that they came to no harm while under his protection.

The man dragged him out into the courtyard, and Legolas' breath caught in his throat. When he saw his father looking at him he tried to silently communicate his apology. During his warrior training, one of his first lessons was to never be taken hostage.

"There is no request that I could refuse if your life was at stake, ion nin." His father had told him with brutal honesty.

Now Legolas dropped his head in shame at being capture and putting his father in this predicament. Fortunately, the man did not seem aware of whom he held prisoner. He had not reacted when Galion had foolishly called out Legolas' name. Most likely, the man was not even aware that the Elvenking had a son. Yet Legolas was still a hostage, and when the man pushed him forward he had no choice but to obey and travel into the forest.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please review.


	5. Enemies

First Meeting

Chapter 5: Enemies

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

* * *

Thranduil watched with fury as his son was taken away from him. Even greater than his fury, was his fear. His only son was more dear to him than all else. He could deny no request if it meant risking his son's life. However, he knew men like the one who had overpowered Legolas. Men like him had no honour. He would only allow Legolas to live as long as it benefited him. Thranduil did not intend to leave his child to the mercy of that man.

After the man and the elf were gone, Thranduil turned to the captain of his guard.

"Send two warriors after them. Send the most skilled you have at stealth and fighting."

Stealth, not manpower, was needed for this task. Two warriors would be better able to track them through the forest, unknown. And they would only need to fight against a single human. The edain's companions were currently all locked in his dungeon, so they would not be a problem.

'That is another testament to the man's honour.' The King thought. 'He would leave his companions to die, but save himself.'

"Have your warriors follow the man and Legolas. Instruct them to be completely silent. If Legolas is in any immediate danger have them take down the man at once. Otherwise, have them wait until he lets his guard down or falls asleep so that you can free Legolas without the man's knowledge. Then, arrest the human. I want him brought in alive."

"Yes, my lord."

'Yes.' Thranduil thought. 'I wish to teach him myself what happens to those who harm my son.'

* * *

After awhile, Aragorn could go on no longer. He determined that he had wondered far enough away from the stronghold for now, because he knew he could go no further until he had at least seen to his shoulder wound. He ordered the elf walking in front of him to a halt. As soon as they were out of sight of the gates, Aragorn had taken a length of rope from his pack to bind his prisoner's hands. Since then the elf had walked before him, shoulders straight and head held high, while Aragorn had followed with his knife never far from the elf's back. He was not a fool. He knew the Elvenking would send elves to follow him. So far, they had not tried to overtake him, but Aragorn knew that they were likely just waiting for him to let his guard down. It pained him to so cruelly treat the elf before him, who had committed no wrong, but he deemed it a necessary evil.

At his command Legolas stopped walking, but he did not turn to face the man. Indeed, he had not glanced at him at all during their journey so far.

"We'll rest here for a bit." He explained. He grabbed hold of Legolas' arm, and guided him to sit before one of the tree trunks. Then, using some more rope, he tied the elf to the tree.

Keeping his knife near at hand in case more elves arrived to rescue his hostage, he began to tend to the wound the guard had given him. It was not very worrisome. The wound had been delivered out of desperation, and had missed its mark. Still, he applied herbs to it to fight off infection and wrapped up the wound. While he did this, the elf remained silent, ignoring the man completely.

When he had cared for his wound as well as he was able to, he returned his healing supplies to his pack and took out his water skin and some bread. After eating a few bites of the bread and taking a sip of water, he hesitated. By now, he had resigned himself to playing the villain in order to survive this affair. If he wanted to be able escape using Legolas as a hostage, then he would need to make the elves believe that he might truly kill Legolas if they did not obey his demands. However, he could not find it within himself to be cruel to the elf. He sighed, and held the water skin up to the elf's mouth so that he could drink without the use of his hands.

"Drink it." Aragorn commanded after the elf simply glared at him. "It's not poisoned."

To illustrate this, Aragorn took another drink from the skin. Still, Legolas refused to drink. After a moment, Aragorn understood. The elf was not refusing for fear of poison, he was refusing out of pride. Aragorn decided to try something else.

"Sogo." He commanded in Sindarin. He smiled. In all the chaos, he had not thought to speak Sindarin while in the dungeons.

He had been warned by Elrond that he should not share information about his unique parentage or upbringing with strangers in order to keep his true identity hidden until the time was right. Because of this, he had grown accustomed to speaking only the tongues of men in recent years. Perhaps, if he just told the elf that he had lived in Rivendell, then Legolas would be more corporative. But Legolas glared at him.

"Do not foul my language by speaking it with your dirty tongue, Edain." The voice was full of nothing but contempt and anger.

Aragorn sighed. He had been warned that the Mirkwood elves were suspicious and xenophobic. It appeared that the rumours were true.

"Let's go." He ordered. He did not know how he would reach the boarder without collapsing from exhaustion, but he had to try. He could not allow himself to be recaptured by the Elvenking. That could only lead to death.

* * *

I don't know Sindarin, but according to what I read online 'sago' means drink. Please correct me if that's wrong so I can edit it.

Thanks to everyone who followed/favorited/reviewed!


	6. The Enemy Of My Enemy Is My Friend

First Meeting

Chapter 6: The Enemy Of My Enemy Is My Friend

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

Author's Note: Some reviewers have asked me how old Legolas is in this fanfic. Although I didn't have a specific age in mind when I started writing it, he is very young, and therefore still rather naive, for an elf. I would say he is around 55, which if elves come of age at 50, would make him about 20 in human terms.

* * *

Tauriel moved silently through the trees. Not far ahead of her, was Daugron. Both were soldiers in the King's Guard, and had been chosen by their captain to protect the prince and arrest his abductor. So far, the Edain had been too alert for them to risk rescuing the prince, while still ensuring the man would be kept alive. Tauriel knew, however, that men needed sleep often. Soon, he would need to rest.

That was why she was not surprised when Daugron stopped and motioned for her to be still. She assumed that the human had decided to rest for the night. Then she recognised the familiar stench.

'Orcs,' she realised in surprised. It was rare for an orc party to roam this close to the stronghold. This was unexpected.

"We must fight them." She said. "We cannot allow the orcs to get near the prince."

It was a risk to leave the prince alone with the man. Yet, orcs were the bigger threat. Orcs slaughtered all that they met. The human, on the other hand, needed to keep Legoas alive, at least for the time being.

Together, Tauriel and Daugron headed in the direction of the orcs. Willing to fight to defend their prince, even to their deaths.

* * *

Legolas was getting worried. He had been aware of the two elves following him through the forest since he had left the stronghold. Now, he could hear them moving through the trees no longer. He knew that his warriors would not abandon him without cause. Yet, he could not imagine what would cause them to desert.

He did not fear the Edain walking behind him with a knife. Legolas had met others like him. The man was arrogant and cowardly. He feared to face justice for the wrongs he had committed so he had used deceit to escape his fate. He thought that by keeping Legolas hostage he would be able to leave the forest, unharmed. It would not work. Legolas knew his father would see that the man was caught and punished for this. So, he did not understand what had caused his guards' sudden absence.

'Orcs.'

The stench of orcs was unmistakable to Legolas' heightened elven senses.

He was not certain what to do. The Edain would not be able to use him as a hostage against orcs. He would be useless to the human. Most likely the human would run and leave him for the orcs. Or perhaps the man would simply kill him now that he and no use for him.

"Wait." The human called from behind him.

"There are orcs nearby." The man said quietly.

Legolas was surprised. He knew that men's senses were inferior to elves'. He had not expected the man to know of the orcs so quickly. He turned around to study the man, trying to determine what the human planed to do next. He saw that the human was also looking at him intently.

"They are too close for us to hope yo avoid them." The human said hesitantly. "It does not sound like they are many."

Legolas raised a brow skeptically. The Edain planed to fight the orcs himself?

"Humans and elves have allied against evil before. If I return your weapons will you fight beside me to defeat our common enemy?"

This man had tricked and humiliated him. Legolas' pride could not easily forget that. Moreover, he was not certain of the man's motive. He would have expected the man to flee like a coward, not fight the orcs. Perhaps he knew his chances of escaping retribution for his crimes were slim, and was only trying to gain Legolas' trust to defend him from the Elvenking's fury. Yet the man spoke truly. Despite human's many faults, they were not wholly evil. Orcs, on the hand, were irredeemable and the elves fought fiercely to rid the forest of the vile creatures. They were the real enemy.

Legolas knew that his word, once given, could not be broken. He could not harm a man that he had sworn to fight beside. He took a deep breath.

"Yes, I will." He said. He hoped that he would not regret his decision.

* * *

Author's Note:

Sorry for the long wait and short chapter. Hopefully when school's over I'll be able to write more often.

I don't like Tauriel or the movie version of the Hobbit. I only included her in this story so that I could kill her off. Sorry if any of you are Tauriel fans.


	7. Fighting the Enemy

First Meeting

Chapter 7: Fighting the Enemy

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.

Big thanks to KatieElizabethGrace for being my beta reader.

* * *

The orc party was a small one about three dozen. Orcs rarely came this close to the stronghold. These must have been particularly daring and desperate to risk venturing this close to the Elvenking's home in the hope of stumbling across a few lone elves.

Tauriel was not afraid. She was outnumbered but she had faced forces larger than her own before. She had also fought beside Daugron before, and knew that he was one of the most skilled warriors in the Greenwood. They could win this battle.

When the first of the orcs emerged from the trees, Tauriel glanced at Daugron, perched on the branch of a tree nearby, and nodded. Much was said in that small, silent signal-get ready, good luck, time to move, have courage.

Tauriel began the well-practiced motions of battle. Setting an arrow to her bowstring, pulling it back with all her strength, releasing, grabbing a new arrow from her quiver, and repeating the motions all over again. By now the actions were instinctive. She did not think. She just did.

Unprepared for the onslaught of elven arrows, the first few orcs fell quickly. Then the remaining orcs had enough warning to be able to prepare themselves. They hid behind trees to shield themselves and their own archers drew their arrows and began to retaliate. The orcs archers were not very effective. Tauriel and Daugron, like all wood elves were able to hide themselves completely from view in the trees. Basing their targets only off of where the arrows were coming from, their shots missed their marks. Yet as the orcs steadily progressed closer to where the elves were hidden, Tauriel and Daugron's situation grew more precarious. From experience, they knew that if the orcs got close enough to be underneath the tree they were hiding in, then the arrows would start coming at them from all directions, making it very difficult to avoid all of them.

So, when the orcs were only a few feet away from the truck of the oak that was shielding her from their assault, she jumped down onto the ground. In her peripheral vision, she saw Daugron follow her to the forest floor a moment later. She drew her knives, and waited for the orcs to move closer. The orcs, who preferred the viciousness of sword fighting over archery, abandoned their bows. They drew their swords and rushed towards the elves.

There were over two dozen orcs remaining. Now in hand to hand combat, Tauriel's hopes were diminishing. Still, she did not allow that to effect her fighting. When the orcs rushed at her, she deflected their blows with typical elven speed and agility. Her attacks were swift and well-placed, bringing down her opponents quickly. Yet, for every enemy she killed another quickly took its place.

Caught up in her own battle, she did not see Daugron fall. The only indicator that her fellow soldier had fallen was the sudden rush of additional orcs. Without the distraction of a second target, the entire orc party was now focusing on her. She could not allow herself to be distracted from the battle for even a second to mourn her friend. She continued fighting, despite the sadness in her heart at the death of another warrior of Greenwood, despite the fact that she was now facing dozens of orcs alone, despite knowing that she would die.

She tried to keep the orcs all in front of her, but outnumbered, she could not prevent them from spreading out to surround her completely.

She stabbed her knife into the chest of one of the orcs, and quickly pulled it back out. She turned to face her next adversary, and that was when it happened.

An orc blade slid into her stomach. Blood immediately began to emerge from the wound and quickly spread over her chest.

"No." She gasped.

She did not feel any pain. Instead, everything seemed strangely distant. The adrenaline she felt during the battle was gone, leaving only indifference. She could see the orc who had stabbed her, yet she felt no anger.

She was still holding her knife. She saw herself clenching its hilt, although she could not feel the knife in her hand. A warrior of the Greenwood was trained to never drop their weapons. A warrior of the Greenwood was trained to never surrender.

The orc had not moved. It grinned at her, a mocking grin, celebrating his victory over her. It knew that she was dying, that she was defeated. What the creature did not understand was that she was not fighter for herself, she was fighting for something bigger than herself.

She was not aware of moving, but she saw her knife being plunged into the orc's throat. She saw the blood that gushed from the wound, saw the orc's eyes widen in surprise. She saw the orc fall.

She felt no triumph at her enemy's death, nor did she feel any remorse. She felt nothing.

As her sight began to blur, she saw the remaining orcs move off into the forest, towards the prince that she had sworn to protect. Then, she saw nothing, and she felt nothing.

* * *

The familiar feeling of his weapons in his hands was a reassuring one. Like all wood elves he carried his weapons with him, even in the stronghold, always ready for any sudden attack. Having his weapons taken from him had been disconcerting as well as humiliating. It was a relief to finally have them returned to him. The man, who had told Legolas that he was called Strider, was a complete mystery to him. He had trusted Legolas' word, and turned over the elf's weapons without reservation. Now, he awaited the orcs' arrival with his former hostage.

Why the man stayed to fight the orcs was puzzling to Legolas. Perhaps he had a personal reason for hating orcs. Perhaps it was just to gain the elf's trust, although trust would not matter if he was killed in battle Whatever the reason, Legolas grudgingly gave the human a small amount respect for not fleeing as Legolas had expected him to.

Holding his bow with an arrow already positioned on the bowstring, Legolas waited in the trees for the orcs to appear. Strider stood waiting on the forest ground below. Legolas did not understand why the man would choose to expose himself when he could hide himself among the trees' foliage, but Strider insisted that he could fight better on the ground. Legolas was not optimistic about the man's fighting skills. He had only been able to overpower Legolas in the dungeon by using a sly and underhanded trick. The man was also already injured. Legolas doubted that he would be much aid in this battle. That meant he would have to kill most of the orcs himself. The orcs were close enough now that Legolas could hear them tramping through the forest. He could tell that there was a little more than a dozen. That was small for an orc party, but still a lot for two people to defeat alone.

There was some advantage to having the human around. Upon seeing the lone man standing beneath the trees, the orcs quickly surged forward, headless of the danger they were rushing into. Hidden from sight in the trees, Legolas was able to take down a number of orcs before they even came close enough to fight against Strider. His skill with the bow was impressive, even by the high standards of Greenwood warriors, and many of the orcs fell from his arrows.

To Legolas' surprise, the orcs that did get through the onslaught of arrows, were quickly and efficiently slain by Strider. The man was clearly well trained, and even with an injured shoulder he was an excellent fighter.

Soon, the orcs realized the presence of their hidden, second attacker. When their own archers began to fire back at him, Legolas dropped down from the trees to avoid the storm of arrows.

Standing back to back with the human, Legolas drew his knives. He had much experience fighting orcs. The orcs' fighting style was vicious and crude. They relied completely on brute strength rather than skill. Their offensive style of fighting made them easier to kill, but it also made them more dangerous. Their blows were sudden and unpredictable, and their superior numbers gave them a strong advantage. Still, Legolas was confident that they could defeat the remaining orcs.

Although Legolas preferred his bow, he was still well practiced in sword fighting. Between himself and the man, who was clearly also a skilled fighter, the orcs were falling quickly.

Only a handful of orcs were still standing, and they were growing desperate. Legolas plunged one of his knives into the stomach of an orc. Simultaneously, he blocked the blade of another orc to his left with his second knife. Being attacked from all sides, there was nothing he could do when he saw an another sword swinging straight towards him.

* * *

Author's Note: An honourable warrior's death for a strong, female character without all the stupid romance. A happy ending for everyone.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/favourited/followed. Please continue to comment and let me know what you think.


End file.
